Though We Depart, We Will Meet Again
by regentage
Summary: War is just a big magic trick. Gunpowder is vanishing dust. Death is the final act, the final bow. But after the surrender of Germany, Ludwig is put under the care of the Allies. Feliciano fears that Ludwig will cease to exist and the world will be warped into another war from the tensions rippling between Alfred and Ivan.
1. Chapter 1

"_Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day."_

Markus Zusak_, The Book Thief_

* * *

><p>"I surrender."<p>

No, no. Please, _heavens_, no.

"No, Ludwig, please you can't! I'm sorry that I couldn't live up to my promise, please!"

"Shut up, Feliciano." Barked a new voice.

Feliciano could match up the voice to the face, Alfred. Despite his friendly demeanor after the first war and fighting with him then, Feliciano came to realize how scary the American actually was.

His sense of humor was replaced by malice and hunger for power. They were the eyes of pure intelligence, someone whose life had flashed right before his eyes with war and blood. Alfred in a sense reminded him in Ludwig.

Their eyes had the same emotions, sometimes.

Feliciano believed that Alfred didn't recognize these things though. Yes, Ludwig had had a rougher road then most of the other nations he had ever known. Constantly hated and watched on by the nation's surrounding him. But, also, that was like Alfred. Everyone thought he was dumb, idiotic, even hated because he just wanted to help. Both of them were misunderstood. Francis, Arthur, and Yao doubted Alfred.

But, Feliciano knew what he was really like. He had seen it. He and Ludwig shared the same hatred in their eyes.

Alfred's hatred was directed to a member of his own party, Ivan, while Ludwig's was directed at himself and his actions.

Ludwig had calmly been surrounded the other nations, his gun at his feet splattered with red liquid. His face was covered in smeared blood of his own, dirty (probably infected) cuts, scrapes that looked like they were burning. Ludwig was basically a train wreck.

After the turmoil that Ludwig had suffered for, Feliciano for the first time realized how tense his muscles were tense with worry, his eyes filled with fear. Fear of being at the mercy of the people had been fighting, fear that they might torture him, and that they might do things he regretted doing to them.

Feliciano could say he also had that fear as well. Yes, he had followed Ludwig and his friend had done most of the work.

He had done some horrible things as well.

And it had been out of their area to control. Countries cannot persuade the people's actions. The people's actions control the country.

"I'm sorry, Ludwig," Feliciano could open repeat to the other while Ivan gladly restrained the German while Arthur restrained him.

They were stronger than the both of them.

The other didn't seem to calculate the words.

* * *

><p>September 3rd the Allies begun their invasion of Italy.<p>

On September 8th of 1943, Italy had officially surrendered the war.

On the same day, the Germans had gone ahead with their invasion of Italy to keep it out of Allied hands while Italian troops begun to surrender to them.

May 7th two years later in 1945 did Germany surrender with four documents of surrender to the United States, Great Britain, Russia, and France.

Six days earlier, May 1st, German troops surrendered to the Allies in Italy.

Two years later and one day before the Allied had their invasion of Italy two years prior, Japan surrendered on September 2nd of 1945.

The world was a puzzle that needed solving afterwards, stained with the blood of their fallen and crushed dreams.

* * *

><p>All three of them had been separated. Feliciano was forced to stay in a locked room. It had a nice view, located in England that overlooked a field with small buildings in the distance. There are guards that patrolled the perimeter. He wasn't sure why they would be stationed there; Feliciano wasn't a threat to anyone.<p>

Arthur regularly came in to check on him and with reassuring words he would repeat, "Hold on Feliciano, you won't be in here forever."

For some reason, Feliciano believed him.

Francis was the only else who came and struck up a conversation with him.

They sat in the two chairs propped up against the window to look at the weather. Usually it was rainy, so they looked at the distant roads to see if anyone was running home to find cover. Also watching the guards freak out when there was an unfamiliar noise. It passed the time, having company.

Feliciano missed Ludwig dearly. No one could replace him.

His only true friend, a craving inside of him that had been nagging at him, telling him that Ludwig was not all right, but he refused to acknowledge it.

The only time he had heard yelling was Alfred.

He had been swearing, but using an American dialect that he couldn't really tell what he was saying. Maybe that was the point?

Otherwise, there was no sound besides the guards outside milling accompany tap of the combat boots echoing across the floorboards from the guards protecting the rooms.

So, the Italian would sit by the windowsill and gaze out. It was calm. Not an unsettling calm, no, not yet.

Three days he had been in this room.

Possibly longer, it felt much longer. It felt like three months. England was boring and constantly raining. Yes, there were books in here to give him company with their stories, but it wasn't the _same_. There was no human companionship.

Of course, nothing would ever be the same. And when left with so many racing thoughts, Feliciano occasionally caved in to some of them.

"Feliciano," a calm voice said as they pushed open the door and a head peeked out from the white door, Francis.

No one had visited him today besides to give meals. The Allies seemed busier then normal.

Feliciano turned his head from looking at the window as he perched on his new bed, meeting eyes with the blond.

"Si?"

"Alfred wanted me to collect your _personal_ possessions."

Oh. Feliciano didn't have any personal possessions, but he understood. His head cocked over to his uniform that lay discarded over the trunk at the end of the bed.

It was decorated with military medals; especially ones that Ludwig had given him. They probably meant those. And the necklace he kept around his neck, the iron cross that Ludwig had given to him.

It hurt Feliciano to know they wanted to get rid of anything tying him to his friend- his closet friend. It was painful, but if he did this now, he could maybe keep his own badges to keep something that reminded him of Ludwig.

The last his piece he had of him to hang onto. Ludwig would never be the same person he knew ever again.

The Allies were going to change him, and Feliciano was scared that Ludwig wouldn't recognize him, love him, or even like him. Or that Ludwig would disappear entirely.

Ludwig had already not been able to recognize him a long time ago. Nine hundred years ago he had started loving him, and now history was going to repeat that. It had been painful as a child, now it was just be worse because now he knew the process. It was too familiar.

The Italian silently obeyed, jumping from the bed and over to the uniform as Francis stood in the doorway with observant eyes. His shaking hands fumbled with the pins, tears blurring his vision. "Hold on, I'm sorry Francis, I've never removed any of them before-"

"Take your time, Feli," the Frenchman replied, taking a step into the room and heading towards the window.

Like as everyday it was dark, cold, and halcyon out there.

Feliciano was nothing but calm. He did not want to part with some silly objects. Ludwig had pinned them onto his uniform himself, strong hand yet gentle and a bit clumsy because he knew those hands didn't want to hurt him.

In Feliciano's mind, he could feel those hands. He longed to, and imagining them was second best.

He collected the numerous badges on the top of the trunk before folding up the uniform, speckled with Italian badges instead. Francis wasn't looking. Feliciano couldn't help but slip the smallest one into his back pocket.

Francis took them. He wasn't happy, content, or sad.

It was pity in his eyes. Pity for the suffering that Ludwig put him through. But, Feliciano knew that he didn't want their pity. He did it. He wanted to be with Ludwig.

"I'll come back for your Italian badges as well."

The Italian was okay with that. They were fascist medals, he would be happy to see them metaling them down. They could be melted down for much better things, like maybe ever part of a swing set for a child. Better than collecting dust.

But before leaving, Francis said, "Feliciano, we'll be needing your necklace as well. You aren't Ludwig's pawn anymore, you shan't be wearing it anymore."

* * *

><p>A week of complete isolation was terrifying. Now the calmness was starting to be unsettling.<p>

Francis and Arthur were the only ones that seemed to care enough to come and visit.

The iron cross was no longer upon his neck. He continually reached to his neck to touch it's cold metal. But, nothing had reached his fingers. It was his last memo to Ludwig. He was reduced to nothing besides a ache in his heart.

Today, Arthur seemed to enjoy visiting more.

"Feliciano?" Arthur knocked on the door as a warning before stepping into the room and spotting the brunet sitting on the bed with a book in his hand. He placed it down as the Brit took a seat next to him.

"Si?"

"Be glad you're not out there, Alfred and Ivan keep arguing over Gilbert and Ludwig it's hectic-"

"Are they hurting him…?" Feliciano stared at Arthur intently with those wide, innocent brown eyes.

Arthur couldn't help but feel bad for Feliciano. The kid was too innocent yet he had seen so many things. It was amazing, but also terrifying that he had remained that way for a long time. He didn't want to trouble the other. He had gone through living hell. His loyalty to the damn Kraut had caused Italian so pain.

He couldn't help but notice the way Ludwig looked at Feliciano, it was something he hadn't seen most of his life, especially in Ludwig's eyes that reflected in Feliciano's as well. He knew how important they were to each other, mentally and physically.

Even when Alfred had been interrogating Ludwig on stupid question, when a Feliciano question arose, worry slid into the German's face.

Arthur had hesitated too long.

Feliciano's expression drew wider, his hands gripping the sheets and turning white. "Please don't tell me they'll hurt Ludwig. Oh my god- they'll torture him! T-They'll do horrifying things to him, please Arthur, you need to save him-"

Arthur desperately waved his hands. "No, no, Feliciano. He's alright…"

That was lie. Ludwig wasn't exactly in the best health conditions at the moment. They had already lowered Ludwig's industrial production to it's lowest and at the range it was during the Great Depression.

Francis seemed intent on pursuing that it kept lowering while Alfred had been busy questioning Ludwig for the week and a half. Not to mention all the armed forces had been abolished completely. The German was an utter wreck.

"Alfred is just going through questioning him."

Some tension lifted from Feliciano's face.

"Can I please see him, Arthur? He's my best friend."

The Brit bit down lightly on his lip before pausing in breathing. "I can't, Feliciano. Ludwig's unstable. He's war-torn, confused, and angry. He would lash out at you."

The air grew cold.

"Arthur…?"

"Yes, Feliciano?" He turned his head to the window, a cool breeze ruffling the curtains open and sending a current of damp, fresh air.

"Do you think that he'll ever be my friend again?" The brunet had said it in such an anxious tone. A heartbreaking question that Arthur needed to think about before he dared to answer.

"This is just a rough patch for him."

The Italian picked at the sheets with his finger nails, what seemed to be like he was trying to pull the threads apart.

"Do you have to go soon?" He asked.

The blond nodded a bit. "Francis and Alfred will start to wonder what I'm telling you. I have business to attend to, but I can talk for a little while longer. It's relaxing in here, though."

"Yes, but I have one other question for you before you have to go," Feliciano said, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly, perhaps a smile? It even made Arthur's eyes brighten a bit. He hadn't seen the other smile since… He wasn't…He wasn't sure.

"Will he remember me?"

"I think he will."

Arthur had seen it before. When a connection is strong enough, it remains through death. It made him smile slightly when he noticed that Feliciano never realized that the Italian had witnessed it himself.

* * *

><p>Gilbert had been in not good condition when he arrived at the headquarters in northern England. Arthur was wary of having all these people here, constantly feeding them with little food they had anyways.<p>

The only thing Arthur enjoyed doing about making his rounds and making sure that the Axis nations didn't succumb to their insanity, especially Ludwig, was visiting Feliciano every day to give him three meals as well as keep the other company.

He could see the emotional toll and damage behind the Italian's eyes.

He didn't realize that Feliciano had suffered when they are actually fighting each other, yes his nation had taken a great smack to the face and such, but the kid's boss hadn't been so harsh on the personification as much as Ludwig's has.

But honestly, that wasn't saying much. All of their bosses has been demanding in the situation.

Now was much better, though, and his curiosity got the best with him as he held out the dinner plate to the small, auburn haired young man sitting on the bed dressed in white sheets.

"Feliciano, don't try to hide it, I can see the pain in your eyes," Arthur mumbled, placing the fork onto the plate with a clink.

Feliciano's hands recoiled since they were stretched out to grab the plates. His emotions conveyed being flabbergasted to dying out to silence.

The Brit didn't mind carrying on the conversation, if it was of importance. This was.

"Tell me Feliciano," he took a seat next to the other, placing the plate on the small Italian's lap, "tell me what happened that hurt you. It will help, if you get it out."

Feliciano's head turned from his gaze on the blond before looking down at his shaking hands in his lap. He knew Arthur wasn't this gentle with anyone else.

Arthur understood what he went through. Little did he know where or when Arthur had gotten that understanding from.

His mouth was dry, Feliciano didn't give himself time to think out an answer. He let the words flood out, letting emotions guide him rather than the story itself. Hopefully Arthur would be able to keep up with his ramblings.

"It was… March 23rd, 1944, so last year." Feliciano began, his eyes distant and looking towards the opposite wall of the room.

Arthur knew where this going. Something had happened in Italy last year. He knew it had been bad, but the Brit wasn't sure what had happened to Feliciano from it.

"Ludwig and I had been at my home, a little bit outside of Rome. Until someone came by and told us that there had been an attack on some of the German Army by a couple of Italian veterans who had been fighting against Ivan," Feliciano's voice cracked. "Explosions and everything. Ludwig… He had been so troubled when the boy told us, he wanted me to arrest these people…"

"But you didn't," Arthur inputted.

Feliciano let out a shaky sigh and nodded his head in agreement, his amber eyes gliding to the window.

"The next day, three hundred and thirty-five men had their heads shot off. All because Ludwig's boss didn't want any more problems…"

His eyes were gathering tears and his words becoming shaky. Feliciano could relive that day; it would play over and over in night terrors. They would never end.

"Ludwig had urged me not to go. I should of listened to him," the Italian created a broken smile on his face, "I should of listened to him…"

Silence filled the room as Arthur watched as the Italian's hands went to his head and pulled at his locks.

"Ludwig. I need to see Ludwig." Feliciano said emotionlessly.

"Feli-" But the Italian had gripped onto the side of the bed and looked like he was reaching for the lamp.

"I will break myself out, Arthur, I need to see him… Even if he's changed…"

Feliciano's voice held no hope but a threatening sound. Ominous if he had ever heard it coming from one of the Italian brothers. His hand gripped onto the lamp and brought it up, to strike it down on himself.

"Lovino… I need him."

Arthur immediately stood up and quickly grabbed the lamp from Feliciano's grasp, but before he could get a firm hold on it, the object crashed to the ground, sending glass everywhere.

Feliciano stared wide-eyed down at the broken object.

He hadn't realized…

He only wanted to see his family and friend. It was tearing him apart. Tears streamed down his eyes as his knees buckled weakly under his legs. He couldn't talk about the war. He never wanted to talk about it ever again.

The glass prickled at the fabric on his knees, cutting them a bit and enough to let them bleed. It hurt but it was nothing compared to the emotional toll. He really needed his brother or Ludwig, they were his rock, and right now he was drifting lost in an ocean with no anchor.

"Guards!" Arthur shouted, gripping under Feliciano's armpits to hoist the other up and dragged him away from the majority of the glass.

It clung to his clothing along with the crystal clear edges of the glass dotted with the other's blood. The Italian seemed extremely out of it, his eyes were hazy and there were tears that continuously poured down his face.

Arthur continued to pull him away before lifting the other onto one of the seats and give him a pat on the shoulder to make sure that Feliciano didn't get too far away from him.

Soon the guards came and gently escorted the brunet out. Feliciano was not aware what was going on. He just wanted to sleep and never wake up. He wanted to fall asleep besides Ludwig, the smell of him, and the warmth radiating off of him.

Feliciano was aware of when the medics had started pulling out the bits of glass that had been embedded into his skin and when they dabbed the anti-infection chemicals on it as well.

Arthur made sure he was the one to bring the Italian back to his room.

Feliciano had regained his normal behavior but was still slightly distant. The Brit could accept that.

* * *

><p>"Wake up Feliciano, dammit," a familiar voice snapped as Feliciano was rocked awake.<p>

He blinked the thick sleep out of his eyes and locked onto the darker amber pair above us.

"Lovino?" Feliciano bolted upright, latching onto his brother.

"Yeah, yeah, okay enough with the hugging," the Southern complained, patting Feliciano's back awkwardly. It was nice listening to the other speak their native language.

The younger brother pulled away after a while, scrambling in the sheets and crossing his legs, large amber eyes looking at him. Lovino was glad. They hadn't changed from the last time he had seen him. "How come you didn't come sooner?"

"Antonio told me I should wait. He more like didn't even let me out of his sight not to mention that stupid Alfred 'didn't want any visitors'," he growled, mockingly doing air quotes.

Lovino continued. "By the way, I brought you a newspaper. I was right. I told Antonio those damn fucks wouldn't have given you any updates on the news."

Feliciano took the newspaper gently from his brother's hand to read the headline. Little did the Italian know that his older brother and Antonio had gone through the paper and took out all the articles that he probably wouldn't be able to handle. They did leave out most of the articles about Germany for Feliciano's sake.

The most comforting thing about the newspaper was that it was written in Italian. He hadn't seen his native language these past eleven days.

Feliciano's eyes grazed the titles before looking up at his brother.

"Why did they let you come see me now? Nothing looks better then it did when they brought me here…"

"Feliciano, I have some bad news." Lovino said, pulling away. He walked to the window, looking outside.

"I know you and that damn potato bastard share some kind of relationship," he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He's not doing as good as they expected. They wanted me to tell you because they obviously know you're friends with the kraut."

An uncomfortable anxiousness grew inside of his stomach.

"What…what happened to Ludwig?"

Lovino walked back over to him, pulling him into a hug.

"They divided Germany up."

"W-What?" Feliciano stammered and squirmed under Lovino's grip.

_Oh my god, the Allies, they're going to get rid of Germany all together. He's not going to exist anymore- oh my god, no. Ludwig can't disappear… I can't loose Ludwig… He's my best friend… No… What if they'll do that to Lovino and I?_

_I can't loose Lovi… It would be like Grandfather Roma all over again… He's the only family I have! They might take both Lovino and Ludwig. I would kill myself if they did that… Please… Don't be dead, Ludwig… And stay safe forever Lovi. I love you so much._

In response, Lovino's tightened. He waited until Feliciano stopped trying to escape from him, loosening his grip but not entirely. He still couldn't let him get away. Once he heard Feliciano start to sob, his frail, war battered body trembling from the sobs that were racking his body.

Feliciano got control of himself when the crying died down. Everything was numb but he was glad it had been Lovino telling him. His brother was here and right now that was all that mattered.

The comfortable silence was interrupted here and there by the swishes of the winds and birds singing outside the window.

"Is he alive…?"

"I don't know, Feli."

"Brother?"

"Yes?" Lovino sighed.

Feliciano inhaled sharply. He detached himself from his brother, lying down onto his pristine white sheets, staring up at the ceiling. He looked too pale for his own good.

"Whom was he divided to?"

"Alfred, Arthur, and Francis."

"Oh."

"Gilbert's alive though. Ivan took him."

Feliciano frowned. As much as he loved Ludwig, he loved his brother Gilbert as well. The Prussian had asked him out on a date once but he had declined. Gilbert hadn't seemed to down in the dumps for being rejected to Feliciano's surprise. Ludwig had always spoke highly of Gilbert even though he commonly used the words irritating, obnoxious, and a show-off, when Ludwig was feeling particularly stressed, Feliciano would ask the German to regale him with stories about Gilbert.

Ludwig would always be happy to talk to him about his brother. He told him stories about when he was young and Gilbert had always been there for him. Or even one time that he made Ludwig sit through his own class of 'Awesome War Strategies'. During the war when Feliciano had seen Gilbert in action, he could clearly notice the connection between Ludwig's intelligence and that he got it from Gilbert, even though people mostly thought of him as possibly a drunkard and too self-centered. Ludwig wasn't like that. Therefore, neither was his brother.

"I'm sorry Feli," the darker brunet grumbled as he stood.

"Will I see you later, _fratello_?" Feli questioned. He switched back to English since the other was leaving his room; better have the Allies know that he wasn't keeping any secrets from them. It wouldn't take them much to pry the knowledge out of him either.

"Of course."

And with that, the room echoed with the click of dress shoes before the definite shut of a door.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

Hey there whoever is reading this, but this is literally my first post-WW2 fanfiction. I haven't seen this many around unless there's a secret stash I wasn't aware of. I wanted to explore the Cold War as well as West Germany and East Germany. As well as the reconstruction of Italy will be another main point in the story. I mainly want to focus this on Europe's reconstruction as well as America's and the Soviet Union's threats of another war. When saying this, I will not be focusing on Japan.

I don't have that much knowledge of post-World War Two, so I will have to go check historical websites and stuff, so if you have a good one feel free to share it with me. So, I use Wikipedia, History Channel, and museum websites focused on World War Two.

I want to alert you on the passage and time. Because everyone was getting used to the war being over and the starting of strict rules placed on Germany and such, I will mash the history together and speed up the time a little bit so if something happens in two weeks but in actual history it may have taken a year, my apologies. Most likely the story will start out with a weird flow of time, but once we get deeper, I'll adjust it so it fits correctly.

I also want to address I am not going to cover up prejudices from this time like racial discrimination and etc. therefore, yes, there will be mentions of fascism, Nazism, militarism, slurs, and other things that existed during that time. POW camps and others like that will not be mentioned much in the story (may be hinted to) since this fanfiction isn't focused on things that did happen in the war, but the suffering nations went through afterwards. Things like political breakdowns, 1940s-50s slang, and just being rude to each other in general will also be in here.

But, I hope you enjoy and thank you. Kind reviews are lovely :) It keeps my drive for the story going.

* * *

><p>"<em>They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don't think it's possible for you to miss me as much <em>

_as I'm missing you right now."_

Edna St. Vincent Millay


	2. Chapter 2

"_Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have mad or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broke; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused."_

Alan Cohen

* * *

><p>Pre-note:<p>

I would like to warn you; in this chapter it will start getting into the groove of years and a new time flow. I like to believe nations (because of their lives beginning longer) human years are very quick to them. So from now on, years here and there will be skipped if nothing really exciting happened in them or if they did and are not mentioned, they will be shone in the future in a flashback.

* * *

><p>Ludwig sat at a metal table, running his fingernails against it smooth surface to create some sound to break the silence. He had stuck in here for two hours or so and currently the last an hour and a half alone.<p>

Left to his thoughts was an absolute horrible idea on the behalf of the Allies; he could sadly suspect that maybe that was one of their tactics to get information out of him to help them win against Kiku.

During the war, he and Kiku hadn't been that close. The Eastern nation had a different way of doing things not to mention that they needed a translator to speak to each other when they joined together. Thank goodness that Kiku had learned English near the end of their relationship, however.

It was three weeks since he had been brought to the Allied headquarters.

He could tell it was England- boring and dismal did nothing to improve his mood. And Ludwig could still not see Gilbert or Feliciano. He was going to go on a rampage if he did not see one of them anytime soon. Even Lovino would do.

Anyone besides the Allied bastards that kept him imprisoned in either his room or this basically holding cell, they had gotten on his nerves lately (especially with the constant talking behind his back and hearing them say "kraut" all the time).

What seemed to feel like a lifetime, did Alfred come in and seat himself down on the table, holding a collecting of papers in his hands.

"Okay, Ludwig," Alfred grinned, leaning back in his chair and sticking the butt of the pen into his mouth, biting down on it lightly.

"Since we've been interrogating you for like a month straight…" The American flipped one of the papers, revealing the one before it to be an American calendar with scribbles of words on each day with either red or black ink but at the top labeled to be "May".

"I'm gonna tell you what we've been doing to you over the past three weeks and what we plan on doing with you in the future." Alfred continued, placing the packet of paper on the table, their blue eyes meeting.

"We've arrested all the people that pose as a security threat. Soooo, combining Francis, Arthur, and I we have," Alfred closed his eyes for little bit, doing the math in his head, "around 492,500 people."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. That was quite a lot of people in prisonHonestly, he was glad that Alfred wasn't (sounding like it) going to tell him how many Ivan took. No one ever it made it out alive easily there. The Soviets weren't the most trusting people.

"And your mind must be thinking, 'Golly, why in the hell would Alfred be telling me this?' well, Mr. Ludwig Beilschmidt, cause your people actually need a sense of security."

Oh, Alfred was in his annoying nickname mood today.

It was better to Alfred's stressful mood and the quite offensive nicknames followed by his stress relieving smoking habit. Ludwig hated the smell and just smoking in general, everyone had done in during the war, it had been disgusting. He had gone to the lengths once of smacking one out of a general's hand. Ludwig had stormed out of the room before they could yell at him though.

Hopefully during the reconstruction Ludwig could get him to quit that one-day.

"We're going to go through and rename all your streets and public buildings. After we do that, we'll select homes and other buildings to set up temporary governments before we get all official and everything."

Alfred nodded to himself. He glanced up at the other blond, searching the German for any signs of questions.

Ludwig didn't look like he had any questions, so that was an okay pass for Alfred to continue his spiel.

"Next month, we will also withdraw my troops along with Arthur's out of Eastern Germany cause Gilbert is now under Ivan…" Alfred kept pausing in-between his list of things they were going to do to keep checking the piece of paper.

"And do a bunch of reforming stuff."

Alfred buzzed his lips together with small mumbling to himself.

"And ya'know, there'll be other stuff then just that. Arthur and I want to combine zones and get Ivan and Francis too. I doubt Ivan will cooperate…"

He wasn't sure why he had brought so many papers when they had such little to talk about. Alfred had way too many things on his mind today- dealing with Ludwig's reconstruction and putting Kiku back into his place.

He stood from his seat and turning on his heel before stopping and facing Ludwig at the table.

"Anyway, Ludwig, I want you to understand that this time we will make sure that nothing can happen again. I know what it's like to feel the physical pain of the people, trust me, and I don't want to see you weak like this. It's not natural. So, I plan on being your plan supervisor, like the big cheese," Alfred grinned, a light coming back into his eyes that Ludwig hadn't seen in days, "As you know, reconstruction isn't easy nor fun. I'll make sure you get back on your feet."

The American then continued his way to the door, opening it.

"Thank you, Alfred, I appreciate it." Ludwig said.

He was being honest.

Ludwig did not want to go through the past twenty years all over again ever. He did regret not doing something to stop them or anyone that wished to hurt people, but the people influenced Ludwig's emotions with their actions. They had all been swayed by poverty and tragedy. Revenge had been crucial at the time.

This time, Ludwig was going to be in control. He was determined to not let them influence bad decisions. This time, he was going to make sure he did things right.

Alfred flicked his hand before leaving, "No problem, Ludwig."

Now Ludwig had to wait until someone got him out of the godforsaken room.

Possibly this was the time to convince Arthur or Francis that he could see Gilbert or even Feliciano. He needed someone he held dearly to.

Someone who that Ludwig needed to know if they were all right, that Gilbert and Feliciano were safe and that none of the Allies laid their gloved hands upon.

Someone Ludwig loved dearly.

* * *

><p>"<em>Do you know what color your hair is Ludwig?" Feliciano giggled as he sat in the others lap, reaching up and playing with the hair that he combed forward in an attempt to get rid of Ludwig's uniform look. <em>

"_What color?" Ludwig asked softly. His blue eyes gazed down at the amber brunet, the other's gentle hands running through his hair._

"_It's like a combination of honey and milk."_

"_Honey and milk?" Ludwig repeated with an amused expression._

_The little Italian giggled once again with an excited nod. "It's like honey but not quite enough. Like if I was making tea and I decided to poured in honey to sweeten it and then milk to get rid of the strong sweet flavor. " _

_That was quite of an odd explanation._

_A crooked smile appeared over the German's face. The kind of smile Feliciano recognized very well when Ludwig's corners of his mouth would begin to perk up but he knew that the other was fighting it. It always made Feli laugh more. _

_Feliciano sat up a bit so that his bottom sat in Ludwig's lap instead of just his head. His amber eyes flickered over the scenery of the Italian countryside. He knew that his German lover enjoyed his country so much, he just didn't know why._

_But Feliciano did agree that it was beautiful. When Ludwig was having hard times in the war or just came back from fighting on the front lines, they usually came to Feli's little cottage to admire the refreshing blue eyes and crisp air. _

It must be comforting to Ludwig_, Feliciano thought as he sat there on the hill with him, _he couldn't go home unless he wants gunpowder to fill his nose, the smell of death, ashes littering the floor… I would love Ludwig to stay here with me forever- in our own world on this hill. But, we're loosing this war. Ludwig's people can't do anything to stop the Allies from advancing…

"_Ludwig?"_

"_Yes, Feliciano?" Ludwig replied, his head tilted back to gaze at the lovely blue sky that matched the other's eyes._

"_If we win this war, can we stay on this hill forever?" Feliciano asked quietly. _

_In truth, they both knew that there was a small chance of their success. The two people they had to worry about was Alfred, and Ivan who seemed driven more by his power hunger than any possible justice value._

"_Yes, forever." _

_The German loomed over the other, their eyes meeting. Feliciano warmly smiled up at him, which Ludwig couldn't help but return the smile with the same warmth in his eyes._

_The warmth in Feliciano's eyes was soon replaced by glistening water, bubbling at their edges. His thoughts and doubts tended to crawl in his mind, and since the weakening of his government due to that he had already surrendered (that didn't mean that he still didn't hang around with Ludwig even though others discouraged it)._

"_What if we don't?"_

_Ludwig turned the small Italian's body to face him but kept him in his lap. After doing so, he cupped the other's face. _

"_Feliciano, even if we don't win this war, don't think I'll ever abandon you. I will always be there, so if you need my help, call me."_

_Even after the kind words, the tears did not stop._

"_T-They will take you away from me." _

_Feliciano couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks despite Ludwig using his thumbs to smear them gently away._

"_T-They will interrogate me. The Allies will hurt you. They'll do horrible things…" _

"_Shh, Feli," Ludwig hushed, lowering his face closer to Feliciano's. In reply, the smaller man brought up his hands to stop from getting his tears onto his lover._

"_As long as I love you, I'll keep you safe from harm," one of the blond's strong hands drifted from the side of his face up to his ear. He gently tucked a couple messy brown locks behind his ear._

_Feliciano's crying begun to die down, taking deep breaths in instead and his bright, brown eyes squeezed shut in protest. If he opened them, Ludwig may be gone and this might had been all just a dream._

"_I love you too, Luddy," Feliciano mumbled quietly, his eyes finally fluttering open after moments. If his friend did disappear, then he still knew that the dream version of Ludwig knew that he loved him too. But to the Italian's relief, he was still there._

_Ludwig winced slightly as he pulled the other into a kiss. Just one kiss that contained love, reassurance, and a little bit desperate too, leaving no hints of lust._

_Afterwards, Feliciano wet face contorted in confusion. "Why did you wince?"_

"_Northing, just a pain in my neck."_

"_It has to hurt if you wince at something, Ludwig, you have a high pain tolerance," his Italian lover muttered, sitting on his knees now and pulling the other's head down for a closer look._

_On the side of Ludwig's neck, blood bubbled from an incredibly red patch of skin, black brimming the edge of the newfound wound. The burn continued to travel up the side of Ludwig's face in the time span that Feliciano was looking at it. His amber orbs dashed over to the blue ones in worry._

"_I-It's nothing, don't worry about it…" The blond tried with a semi-reassuring smile but Feliciano knew better to not lie in these situations._

_Feliciano stood up and gingerly grabbed onto the German's arm, pulling him up into a standing position. "What are they doing?"_

"_They've been bombing Berlin nonstop this whole month," Ludwig sighed, slipping their hands together and interlacing their fingers._

"_Where else are the burns?"_

"_Along my spine and coming up to the base of my neck. They just started appearing now, so the fires from last night must have gotten out of control now... I believe their goal is to break my people's spirit, but gladly, it isn't working." The blond nation snorted, giving their hands a firm and steady squeeze._

_Feliciano smiled gently, casting his eyes down before up to make sure they were headed in the correct direction. There was the cottage, the small farm cottage on the top of the hill surrounded by colorful flowers. The flowers that he and Grandpa Roma had planted long ago._

_Many wonderful memories had their called this cottage home._

"_I'm pretty sure I have some aloe," Feli said out loud, his lips pursing together in thought as he began to swing their hands back and forth._

"_Danke schön."_

"_I haven't done anything yet, Luddy." The Italian laughed, a pleasant grin appearing on his face._

_Ludwig rolled his eyes. That wasn't the only thing that he was thanking Feliciano for. The Italian had given him hope and even though sometimes he was a pain in the ass, he meant well. He meant to be in his life as Ludwig was meant to be Feliciano's life. _

_There was a connection between him and the one he felt a not just a romantic attraction to, friendship and possibly even sexual to. He probably would never admit the last one though (it was kind of obvious since Gilbert kept telling him to do the do with Feliciano despite his protests and embarrassment)._

_Even if Feliciano believed it or not, the Italian was there for him in his times of need. _

_Maybe not physically, but mentally. He was a great listener, he had such a pure heart, and Feliciano was everything that the German wasn't. And he loved him for it._

* * *

><p>"Arthur, let me see Gilbert, please." Ludwig said to the Brit as he escorted him back to his room.<p>

Arthur glanced back at the other as he led him to this room before shaking his head.

"You know I can't do that."

"Then, at least let me see Feliciano."

"I can't do that either." Arthur said emotionlessly.

It wasn't worth it anymore. Every time Ludwig demanded to see his family or technically his lover, he was met with a negative reply. But, he was determined to not believe them. He needed Gilbert and Feliciano.

Ludwig looked behind himself, studying the guards' faces before his head flicking back. Damn Allies. They could at least let him take a shower, but for the past three weeks he had only gotten two. His blond hair was matted with grease- he probably didn't smell good.

That was not his biggest problem.

What constantly was on Ludwig's mind was his own country. He could damn the Allies as much as he wanted for the next couple years. That wouldn't help anything. It would probably back it worse if he had said it out loud.

Even though the people's emotions seemed much calmer during the war, he felt steadily hungry. He knew his people were starving; every country in Europe had limited rations.

Besides that feeling remaining every hour of every day, Ludwig could not stand to be with himself alone in a room without anything to do. He assumed that the Allies realized that since they had given him a typewriter. That didn't help either for the purpose of the typewriter was to write down accounts of the war. It was still better. When he had the paper, he could write without reliving what he was talking about.

But, when left alone in isolation, flashbacks came violently. None of them were good.

That was the mental damage.

There was physical damage as well. Ludwig was stuck with a broken arm, his right one to be exact. The whole left side of his neck and face were crawling with burns. Finally, because of the war being over, they were actually starting to heal.

Accompanied with the burns on the left side of his neck, on the left side of his face he was sporting various ugly bullet-grazing marks that had sliced through his blond hair. They still weren't as red as the burns, but due to that they might be easily infected, Arthur had decided it a good idea to wrap bandages around the side of his head. He had made the bandages cover his upper eye for above his eye he had also suffered some injuries.

Growing up, Ludwig hasn't a fan of pirates. He still wasn't. The problem was that he now looked like one.

There were other wounds on Ludwig's now weakening body. He still looked pretty strong, and yes, he still was it's just that his energy was always drained and his mind was blank, he couldn't seem to be able to control his thinking.

Snapping back into reality by one of the guard's butts of his gun shoved into his back and some ugly French words, Ludwig couldn't help but dangerously glare at the guard.

He was not in the mood- everything hurt. Even though it sounded cheesy and he would never admit it, his heart hurt the most.

Arthur dismissed the guards, opening the door to the German's room before ushering him quietly in and following him inside.

Ludwig sat down at the desk in the corner, looking out to the window, watching the trees sway gently in the wind.

"When will I ever be able to see them?"

Arthur pulled up a chair, turning it so that it's back pressed up against the wall.

"I don't know, Ludwig. You may be able to see Gilbert soon, but for Feliciano, it may be a few years."

He already knew why. It was better to keep two countries that are reconstructing separate especially when they were allies in a war.

"A couple of weeks ago, we gave Feliciano something," the Brit muttered, standing up and rummaging first through his uniform coat pockets, "he told me to give them to you right where hey were ready..."

After a while, Arthur moved down to his trousers and ran through their pockets. Nothing. "Hold on a moment, Ludwig."

-oooo-

When Arthur returned, he seemed slightly off-put, his clothing ruffed and his hair a tad on edge. But he managed to regain his composer as he took his seat again.

And with gloved hands extended, he held out a small manila envelope.

"Since Feliciano cries a lot and Lovino yelling at us to let him out soon, Francis decided to give him a camera. I'm not sure how much film was in there, but here."

Ludwig took a hold of the small envelope in his hands, undoing the small flap on top and pulling out a large chunk of photographs.

Arthur stood as he watched the other removing the photographs ever so gently it was a little funny. Ludwig was strong, but he treated the papers like if he held too tightly they were to disintegrate. He seemed too absorbed in the pictures to notice Arthur heading for the door.

The Brit opened up inside of his breast pocket, pulling out the camera he had given to Feliciano early. He stood a little bit hidden behind the door, taking a picture and making sure the flash did not go off. Ludwig did not notice.

Arthur would remember to get that developed.

The nation was too engrossed in the silly and loneliness in the pictures that Feliciano had taken to notice that the Brit was now gone.

The one he had found himself to be particularly fond of is that Feliciano standing in front of the Italian's door to his room, his arms up in the air and a smile stretched as wide as he remembered it. He must have put the timer on to take that one.

A couple other of the photographs were Feliciano holding the camera and taking a picture of himself in what looked like bed sheets and others taken in the same style of taking pictures of himself were all over the room. He had taken some photographs on his room, the bookshelf in the corner behind the door, a closet, and the clean, white bed.

It made Ludwig smile.

Feliciano was healthy looking. His eyes were full of hope but there was a small sadness hidden behind them.

He had a few scratches on his face and adhesive bandages everywhere. In the one of him standing in front of the door, he had several on his legs, arm, and neck and especially the one on his nose and upper cheek on his face made him look even more of a child.

The smile on Ludwig's face grew.

Then it broke.

The smile fell from his face and was quickly replaced by the blurriness of his eyes.

A photograph was not enough. He wanted Feliciano, here, with him.

But that wasn't going to happen.

Their photographs were already old. On the back, in Feliciano's cursive had been written the date. Two weeks ago.

They too, would grow old and fade.

Soon enough, maybe Ludwig was cease to remember the way when Feliciano laughed so much that he started snorting.

Or the first time when Ludwig confessed his feelings.

They would all be memories. Memories that would be forgotten and replaced with an aching void that was already beginning to form.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

Thank you everyone who wrote reviews. You have empowered me to write another chapter of this fanfiction.

To be honest, I have a passion for writing this because I don't have a large knowledge of the time period. It keeps my interest for the politics and reconstruction in different areas going on in the world. Because of that, it's hard to get uninterested in the subject you have 1945 all the way to 2014 to cover and every single day something different happens in the world. It's like all of the fanfictions I've ever wanted to written rolled into one haha.

The order of events in the story will mostly be told chronological. All things in the war will be told according to flashbacks and or the country sharing them with someone else.

On other sites where I have posted my stories, they should have a reference list of all the websites I used :)

I hope to update this every Thursday or Friday.

Reviews are lovely and keep me writing (;

* * *

><p><em>"I was calling, for the last time.<em>

_We'd been here before; they found pictures in the snow._

_I could tell your eyes, looked beneath the blue._

_I woke underneath the trees, for the first time."_

You Are A Memory – Message to Bears


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